Paper Cuts
by JodieJelloCube
Summary: The first cut is the deepest, but the rest still flippin' hurt...


Last night I saw Ed Sheeran in concert, and he was so beyond amazing that the English language lacks words. Anywho, his supporting act "Passenger" (Mike Rosenburg) absolutely blew me away! I was in love from the first song, I bought a copy of his album and he signed it for me, and he replied to me on facebook, and everyone needs to look him up, especially if you're a fan of Mumford & Sons. So, I was listening to the album, and hello song that screams BBRae.

Song: "The Wrong Direction" - Passenger.

* * *

_When I was a kid, the things I did were hidden under the grid,_

_Young and naïve, I never believed that love could be so well hid._

_With regret, I'm willing to bet they say the older you get,_

_It gets harder to forgive and harder to forget._

Garfield hadn't had the easiest of childhoods by any standards, and his jovial nature and irresponsible antics were in some ways his attempts to try and pretend that he hadn't grown up too fast. But these make-believe experiences and moments of thoughtlessness did not allow him to forget that a heavy burden had been thrust upon his shoulders. He was a hero, and as such he was required to act without a second's pause if ever any danger presented itself. This left little room for games. So, it was only in Garfield's free-time, usually around the tower and other Titans that he played his pranks and told his jokes, despite the team's objections.

After years of working alongside the others and saving the city more times than he could count, Garfield had matured, he'd learnt that there were things far more important than a missed childhood, he could not mourn for the past he had not had when there were so many people who loved and respected him for the feats he'd mastered and lives he'd saved. He understood with brand new eyes and a much wiser mind that it did not matter what he hadn't had, as long as he appreciated what he did have. It was in his past naivety that he'd fallen for Terra, he'd taken to her instantly and she'd responded in kind. At the time he'd assumed that that was how it worked, he hadn't even considered the concept of feelings developing over time. He knew now how naïve he'd been.

_It gets under your shirt like a dagger at work._

_The first cut is the deepest, but the rest still flippin' hurt._

_You build your heart of plastic; you're cynical and sarcastic,_

_And end up in the corner on your own._

It hurt tremendously for him to recall the times when he'd been gullible enough to be led down roads that left him in futilely vulnerable situations. At the time he'd never imagined that she could be the solution. Too often he'd trusted too easily, and these misgiving and misperceptions of character had led him to be heartbroken, Terra being a prime example. But never had it ever crossed his mind that the one person who he'd need to most would be Raven. As he'd grown, not just in the physical sense, but as a person, he found he understood her a lot more. As he aged ever so gradually over the years, he began to catalogue little changes in her, little quirks and habits and interests, all the tiniest fractions that made her who she was. And he found with great awe, that he loved them all.

But shortly after his epiphany he recalled her disdain towards him. And he quickly discovered that loving her was a torturous experience. Each encounter they shared was like a paper-cut to Gar's already fragile heart, a paper-cut because the moments were not quite so small that they were insignificant, but small they were, and God, did they hurt! Every icy word that left her lips stung. Her dry humour and clipped dialogue left a lot to be desired and sometimes it was almost too much to bear, but Gar persevered, because he'd never been a quitter. He didn't know that that was one of the things that Raven secretly admired about him. But Raven's mannerisms were so typically distant that whenever she showed him any form of tenderness he always thought of it as artificial. She couldn't help the way she was, for a long time it had been strictly necessary, but after the defeat of her father, and her newly established freedom, she found with chagrin that old habits truly do die hard.

'_Cause I love to feel loved but I can't stand the rejection._

_I hide behind my jokes as a form of protection._

_I thought I was close but under further inspection,_

_It seems I've been running in the wrong direction._

_Oh, no._

Few people really knew how much of Gar's humour was a façade, he was by nature an upbeat and friendly individual, but on so many days he felt a burning desire to just lock himself in a room alone with an abundance of video games and never return to the world beyond them, so much like Raven and her books. But he feared that time alone would cause his insecurities to eat away at him, so instead he wore a mask, a mask that got him little respect but allowed him to poke fun at things for a while, so that he would not be overwhelmed by the seriousness of the situations he faced. So many times he'd tried to reach out to the object of his affections, but he found that he wore his mask so often that she thought his real face was the disguise, and this was the crux of his dilemma. One step forward, two steps back. No Raven. A tender smile and a friendly word of comfort: one step forward. A tasteless joke, a humourless pun: two steps back. It was an intricate dance routine, and Gar did not know the choreography.

_So, what's the point in getting your hopes up?_

_When all you're ever getting is choked up,_

_When you're coked up, _

_And can't remember the reason why you broke up._

_You call her in the morning,_

_When you're coming down and falling,_

_Like an old man on the side of the road._

There were times, few and far between, in which Gar and Raven would fall together in their loneliness, and lose themselves in the comfort that they brought each other but very seldom allowed themselves to feel. And though these times were infrequent they were always worth the wait, because they each felt whole in these moments. They would sit side by side and they'd say what they needed to and then they'd let silence fall. There was an almost eerie calm in the air between them, their breaths would mingle and appear before them in the cold, breaking the tranquillity of the otherwise silent night. When they were battered, bruised and broken they would go to one another, never telling another soul of their encounters. And they'd always leave feeling lighter and heavier all at once. Even though they both were reassured by the other's support, they felt burdened by the nagging thought that there should've been something more. And Gar was left with another paper-cut that stung every time he breathed in deep, because she looked so beautiful in the moonlight and so fragile and scared as he comforted her. He wanted to shelter her, but she would never allow it, and whenever things got even the tiniest fraction more intimate than was strictly necessary, she'd spin on her heel and leave him in the dust. But still he went to her when he needed help, and she always delivered, and swiped him again with her paper tongue.

'_Cause when you're apart you don't wanna mingle,_

_When you're together you wanna be single._

_Ever the chase, to taste the kiss of bliss that made your heart tingle._

_How much greener the grass is, with those rose-tinted glasses._

_But, the butterflies, they flutter by and leave us on our asses._

In some ways they had what could be labelled as a love/hate relationship, in the sense that sometimes they couldn't stand the sight of each other, but they still meant more to each other than either of them would freely admit. Raven was constantly paranoid, for the simple reason that she'd opened up more to him than she had to anyone, and in some warped portion of her mind Raven believed that this meant he had leverage on her. She worried that he would broadcast her weaker moments. She worried that he would ridicule her, because even though she cherished his company, she did not trust easily. Gar dreaded the thought of her finding another, if she were ever to take interest in some other guy Gar was sure that it would tear him apart, and there would no longer be paper-cuts, there would be lacerations. Even though he despised the very idea of anybody else having her, he made no actually effort to claim her himself. Raven wasn't the kind of girl who needed a guy in her life, and Gar not only respected that, but he admired it. He loved her courage, her independence and her strength. But at the same time he longed to call her his own. But because he knew of her distaste for people who did not feel complete within themselves, he was, for lack of a better term, afraid to broach the subject. Raven did not understand and had no time for individuals who deemed themselves incomplete without an 'other half'. Even though she did not actively avoid the concept of relationships, she did not deem them necessary. And so Gar found himself stuck in a sort of limbo, caught in the recesses of his own mind as he contemplated different ways in which to drop hints and evaluate her reactions.

He remembered vividly the one moment in which he'd been allowed to get closer. Raven had come to him with the tracks of traitor tears down her porcelain face. She'd received some venomous words and harsh critique from a passer-by in the city, she did not usually allow such trivial things to bother her, but for unknown reasons that day the words had broken her down, only temporarily, but long enough for Gar to comfort her, for him to be drawn in. And in a charged and quiet moment he leaned slowly closer and enveloped her lips with his own, only for her to have vanished in a pool of dark magic a second later. With a heavy sigh he laid back, but he could not bring himself to regret.

'_Cause I love to feel loved, but I can't stand the rejection,_

_I hide behind my jokes and a form of protection._

_I thought I was closer but under further inspection,_

_It seems I've been running in the wrong direction._

_There's fish in the sea for me to make a selection,_

_I'd jump in if it wasn't for my ear infection._

'_Cause all I wanna do is try to make a connection,_

_It seems I've been running in the wrong direction._

_Oh, oh._

Raven hadn't spoken to him directly for weeks following that incident, and Gar had known immediately that he'd just thrown himself a million miles back for his attempt to shuffle closer. He never quite knew where the line was with her, and she'd never given him any help in defining the boundaries. And maybe it was wrong of her to keep running back when she needed a little warmth, and maybe in some people's eyes she was mercilessly leading him on, but that had never been her intention. And though Gar knew that there were many others out there who'd be more than willing to keep him company if he asked, he doubted greatly that they'd be on par with what he believed he'd lost. He'd tried to talk to her, to apologise for his rash actions. He explained that he'd just been so tempted, and so lonely and he'd felt so vulnerable. And without the barest inflection on her speech, she'd asked if he regretted what he'd done, and because he would never lie to her, he'd told her that he'd do it all again if he could. And she'd simply shut the door in his face without another word. And perhaps it was exactly the opposite of what she'd wanted to hear, but he didn't regret telling her, because he could breathe a little easier knowing that she had the truth.

Every moment that she didn't speak to him left his heart stinging more, and he'd expected awkwardness at first, but he couldn't understand why she was making such a big deal out of it if it hadn't meant anything to her. It was just a kiss, not even that, it was just the barest of lip contact that had lasted the tiniest second. It did not warrant her animosity, but still he received it. And one day out of the blue she'd arrived at his door, and at the sight of her his pain subsided. She'd told him in rushed words and confessions stumbled over, that she hadn't realised how much closer she'd wanted him, until she'd pushed him away. She liked missing him. She like having him at arm's reach because the idea of him being taken away made her appreciate him a whole lot more. It was a twisted sort of logic but he understood to a certain extent. Though she wanted him, she wanted him more when there was a chance that she couldn't have him. It was a 'have your cake, and eat it, too' situation. And maybe there was no right or wrong, maybe she wasn't ready to commit to him, and maybe this was due to her trust issues. And maybe the whole time he hadn't been moving backwards, he'd just been taking the round-about route.

_Oh, oh._

_I love to feel loved but I can't stand the rejection._

_I hide behind my jokes as a form of protection._

_I thought I was close but under further inspection,_

_It seems I've been running in the wrong direction._

_It seems like I'm running in the wrong direction._

_Oh, no._


End file.
